


A Predator Stalks Onboard

by doctornemesis



Category: One Piece
Genre: Acceptance, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Denial of Feelings, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Time, Getting Together, Guilt, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Years, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornemesis/pseuds/doctornemesis
Summary: Marco had a problem. He was being hunted. Thoroughly, relentlessly hunted.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Portgas D. Ace, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Comments: 6
Kudos: 176





	A Predator Stalks Onboard

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a rough time getting any writing done lately, so I broke down and wrote some Marco/Ace smut to ease my mind a little.

Marco had a problem. He was being hunted. Thoroughly, relentlessly hunted. 

And he had no idea what to do about it.

He found himself constantly looking over his shoulder when outside his quarters, and even inside them now. Damn logias, he thought, wondering if keeping sea stone in his room was a good idea or a bad one. When Ace tried to seep into his quarters later that night, he cursed himself for not doing so. After all the time he’d wasted on trying to kill pops, Marco hadn’t expected this kind of behavior, especially after Ace had agreed to bear Whitebeard’s mark on his back, but Ace wasn’t trying to kill him. 

At least, not in the obvious sense. 

No, the brat was trying to _seduce_ him, and Marco’s underlying attraction to him wasn’t helping matters. He’d just been made second commander, for fucks sake. Marco couldn’t afford to get distracted, let alone more than that, but Ace held both his gaze as well as his attention, and worse, he knew it. Ace was everywhere. 

Smart enough to play coy when needed, but bold enough not to care.

Marco felt intoxicated just looking at him, anything more bordered on too much. The brat was cocky, trigger-happy and rash, but he was also loyal, considerate, and lovable in his own way. He didn’t use his head, but only because his heart spoke much louder. 

Ace was dangerous.

Marco couldn’t get a handle on his feelings for him, and so he’d attempted a strategic retreat. He was a busy man, after all, but it didn’t work. Ace found other means.

And they were much more...blatant. 

  
  
  


The Whitebeard’s rang in the New Year, and Ace silently apologized to his mother for taking her life. The two had only spoken about his feelings on the matter exactly once. Marco didn’t push, but tended to offer Ace a distraction if needed instead. 

Unfortunately, Ace took advantage of it. 

Like now, cornering Marco in front of his desk, those mist gray eyes pleading up at him. For what, Marco didn’t know exactly, but he could guess. The prospect terrified him, true, but he could guess.

“Ace...”

“You don’t have to do anything but stand there, Marco.”

“It doesn’t work that way, brat.”

“Sure it does.”

Before Marco could argue his point further, Ace had him down by the front of his dress shirt, his lips—spiced with rum—were hard and unforgiving pressed against his. Marco found himself in quite the predicament, and for the first time in his life, he felt at a loss for what he should do about it. He didn’t want to hurt Ace, nor did he want to push the other man away, but this situation wouldn’t help the pain he insisted on burying deep down inside him. 

“Ace—”

“You said if I needed a distraction, I could have it,” he said, his fingers dancing along Marco’s jawline.

“Sex shouldn’t be used as a distraction from your problems, yoi,” he said, countering Ace’s advancement for a while, but he only succeeded in backing himself into a corner, the door to his bathroom on one side and his bed on the other. 

“I don’t have any experience in that department,” he said, whining as he pressed his face into the crook of the blonde’s neck, his breath warm—inviting. “You know that.”

Marco felt weak, weaker than what seastone made him.

“Well, when the right person comes along I’m sure you’ll be ready, but I don’t think that person’s me,” he said, eyes sealed shut as he tried to tamper the fast beating of his heart. 

“Marco, you _are_ that person,” Ace said, forcing Marco to look back down at him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to do this sort of thing with.”

Marco couldn’t help himself, after months of shaking Ace off his trail he simply needed to know. “Why, yoi?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You just are.”

“You can’t mistake gratitude for love,” he said, trying his best to distance himself as far away from Ace’s feelings as he could. 

“I’m grateful to a lot of people,” he said, nipping at the sensitive flesh of Marco’s neck, “but that doesn’t mean I want to _fuck_ them, Marco.” 

The way Ace spoke like _that_ made Marco weak, weak, weak. The press of blunt teeth and sharp canines sent his pulse fluttering again. Ace added to the heat spreading throughout Marco’s entire body by pressing their hips firmly together, his arousal evident and too foolhardy to deny.

“Ace.”

“You want me, too,” he said, words murmured against the side of Marco’s bare throat in between stinging bites aiming their best to bruise, never mind the blonde’s innate ability to heal himself at a moments notice. “I know you do.”

Marco wanted to refute him, refute any chance of this—whatever _this_ was—from moving forward, but one look into those steadfast eyes silenced him. A rampaging storm of gray that threatened to pluck him up into a vortex and never let him go. He needed to regain the upper hand here, fight for any semblance of control he could, but Ace was a vice.

His vice. 

He threaded his fingers through Ace’s thick, curly hair, yanking hard enough for a hiss to pass through full lips. The lustful gaze that met his ruined any chance of not being swayed, not that he carried much hope to begin with. The music outside proved too loud to think clearly, a multitude of drunken voices carrying them through the last futile seconds of another year.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One...

Marco threw caution to the wind, content to beg for forgiveness when his mind cleared and Ace stopped peering up at him with his own sense of absolution. He could feel Ace’s skin warming under his touch, see the tinge of red that gently caressed freckled cheeks, _taste_ it on such supple lips. Ace didn’t hesitate, accepting Marco’s kiss with a sharp inhale and welcoming tongue. 

He could taste the spice of the rum, the breathy sigh Ace appeared prone to making the further his hands strayed down along bare sides. His fingers danced along sensitive ribs, Ace’s flesh warm and so completely inviting. A welcome home to the cool blues that were housed inside him, shielding him from his true wants and needs. 

A striking display of purple, a collision of reds and blues that bled within them.

“Marco,” he moaned, his throat constricting and releasing with a heady stream of tension and desire.

The soft daze held in those abiding gray eyes reeled him further in, and Marco decided to let it coax him farther and farther out to sea, allowing himself to get dragged under the blissful feeling of heated hands intent on studying all he had to offer. Marco took the reins, guiding Ace back towards a lonely bed for a lonely man who denied ever being lonely to begin with. Ace didn’t fight him, receiving him with open arms instead.

Ace might not have been able to mark him, but the same couldn’t be said for him. No, Marco got to work decorating sun-kissed skin with deep seated declarations of both love and fear. No one made him feel as out of control or vulnerable as Ace did.

He felt wholly unstable around the other man.

The first belt came off with relative ease, the second one putting up much more of a front, but met much the same fate at the foot of his bed. Divesting Ace of his dagger felt sacrilegious almost, but he made do without it, his hands too busy teasing a line down along Marco’s spine to plunge a blade in his back. Besides, Ace fought too honestly for such a tactic—his lips, teeth and tongue making for much better weapons. 

The vision of Ace naked and wanting underneath him made for an unholy sight, the kind of thing a man dreamed of when stranded on a deserted island, left at the mercy of the midday sun, twisted hunger and dire thirst. The sort of thing that could bring a man like him to his knees, unable and unwilling to resist. Ace must have felt much the same way, desperate hands and fingers working to rid Marco of his open dress shirt and light blue sash. The layers between them were being shed, one by one, and Marco could feel himself falling further under Ace’s spell, the promise of freedom and much more. He couldn’t believe how out of hand this had all gotten, but he’d been worn down, his defenses picked apart slowly but efficiently.

“Marco, please,” Ace whined, his thighs shaking the further his legs spread apart. 

“Perfect, yoi,” he said, a corrupt smirk hinged at the corner of his mouth, the pad of his thumb pressed against Ace’s bottom lip, enjoying the sinful sight it cultivated.

If one were to fall, might as well do it for the right purpose, he surmised. He’d clip his wings if it meant he got to keep Ace a little while longer. Marco didn’t know what to do with him, didn’t know where to start, eager to give Ace his all in case this only lasted through the early morning hours and nothing more. 

He focused his gaze on the curved jut of Ace’s cock, pleased to see how bad the other man wanted this—wanted him. His soft denials over the past few months had left him weak to the resolute, absolute truth of Ace’s inherent desire for him. He felt torn between destroying that heavenly vessel and worshiping it.

Ace moaned at the feeling of Marco’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock, his chest flushed red as his hips thrust forward, chasing that sweet, sweet friction he’d never experienced with anyone else before. Marco felt intoxicated at the sight, more so than the liquor running through his veins, his thumb gliding along the slit of Ace’s cock, smearing precome over the head. Ace jerked at that, his fingers digging into one of Marco’s thigh as he groaned, looking strung up and tortured all the while. 

“Marco,” he breathed, his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, thighs trembling. 

The brat was quite sensitive. Touch starved, no doubt. 

“Don’t worry, yoi,” he crooned, leaning down to capture Ace’s lips for himself, enjoying the needy way the other man reciprocated. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I know.”

Marco nearly faltered at the sheer trust Ace held in him, licking his lips in a nervous gesture he hadn’t exhibited in decades. A lot of people placed the utmost faith in him, and he carried the pressures of that with nothing but grace, but the way Ace stared up at him, so bright and open and honest beyond anything he’d ever seen before...it stole his breath away, stripping him of any sanity he might have had left. He made a silent vow to try and not abuse such a sacred thing, aware of Ace’s inherent distrust of those around him, but Marco knew. 

He knew that Ace had already entrusted him with the deepest, darkest parts of himself. He knew he needed to expose some truths about himself as well. Marco needed to convey to him just how much he’d come to revere Ace’s presence in his life in such a short span of time; that he felt what Ace felt on an intimate level as well, and just how terrified that fact made him. 

“Marco—”

“Ace, I love you,” he said, words muttered against the smooth expanse of Ace’s bare throat. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It terrifies me, yoi.”

Ace peered up at him with a sense of wonder, his dark hair obscuring most of his eyes. He placed a heated palm to the center of Marco’s chest, right above the tattoo that marked his allegiance to Whitebeard and the fleets he commanded. A place he’d cemented at the tender age of fifteen years old. 

“I can’t pretend to understand your attraction to me, brat,” he added, “but I’m tired of fighting it, yoi.” 

Ace grinned at that, some of his inherent cockiness bleeding through. Marco enjoyed the smirk that hinged on the corner of that full mouth, securing a taste of it for himself. He slid the tip of his tongue along the seal of those pliable lips, seeking entry and gaining it. The cavern of his mouth seared Marco’s tongue, a mixture of spice and something sweet. A forbidden fruit Marco had denied himself for far too long, catapulting into his eventual fall from grace.

Each and every slide of his tongue tainted Ace further, but Marco couldn’t bring himself to stop. A sense of guilt would eventually take hold and blossom within him later on, but he couldn’t be bothered to care in the moments where skin met skin, the allure of imminent danger following every shift and pressing of hips. Ace felt desperate underneath him, every soft slide causing him to crave for something more complete, something much more profound. 

“Please!” he cried, fighting Marco’s hold on him until the blonde captured his mouth once again, effectively silencing him.

Marco took the opportunity to retrieve a tiny glass vial filled with scented oil from within his nightstand. Ace continued to watch him with rapt fascination, his chest rising and falling in slow succession, each even measured breath attesting to his sheer will to slow down and take it all in. Marco took the time to slick his fingers up, making a show out of it that Ace couldn’t dare to look away from. 

The roaring in his ears faded enough that he could hear the fireworks still launching into the night sky along with drunken cheers and calls for more alcohol to go along with the upbeat swing of music. The reality brought a blissful smile to his face, but the view of Ace pinned underneath him proved worthy of a better new year—a brighter future expanding ever outward before his very eyes. He leaned forward, allowing for Ace to cup either side of his face, pressing one searing kiss after another anywhere those delirious lips could reach. 

“Just relax, yoi,” he said, pressing his lips firmly against Ace’s before trailing them ever southward, taking his time to mark the other man all over again. 

Ace moaned when Marco’s teeth grazed over one of his nipples, his chest sensitive and exploitable. He licked, bit and sucked with no sense of urgency about himself, intent to keep Ace on edge all the while. To add to the desperation the other man felt, he took Ace’s cock in hand, leisurely stroking him in a slow, tortuous fashion, but never enough to make him come.

Marco could see the tension draining away from Ace’s body, could feel it fleeing from that beautiful open form he’d found himself fantasizing about more than once. The taste of Ace left Marco disoriented, his tongue his only guide along such strong obliques. The lower his head moved, the lower his hands did also. 

A soft press of fingertips against Ace’s opening caused his hips to jerk forward, and Marco could only chuckle at that wonderful receptiveness he contained. Ace groaned, louder now that Marco’s mouth neared its ultimate destination. No one had ever done this for him before, and the prospect of being the first made Marco feel hot all over—scorched, even.

He’d never felt this way about anyone prior. The kind of man to keep both his heart as well as his hands busy in seclusion, working himself ragged, weighed down by ever growing fears and responsibilities related to the crew and Whitebeard’s ailing health. Family was all that he’d concerned himself with, but Ace proved to be far more than merely a brother-in-arms. His eyes were hopelessly drawn to Ace wherever he went; his presence that of a lighthouse calling one such as himself back to shore. Marco didn’t know what, exactly, drew his gaze to Ace, but whatever it was that lingered just below the surface had taken hold of him, and now refused to let him go.

Their eyes met the moment Marco decided to taste him for the first time, tonguing the slit of Ace’s cock as the brat’s head fell back, his mouth hinged open as he cried out—startled. His stomach tensed, and his fingers shook as they threaded through the blonde tresses of Marco’s hair, trying desperately to ground himself. Marco couldn’t help but to laugh at the boy’s plight, engulfing the head of Ace’s cock in the soft, wet heat of his mouth.

“Marco!” he exclaimed, his voice much louder than before. “ _Fuck_.” 

The sounds he made were sinful, a blended cry of both lust and innocence that only served to fuel Marco onward. He welcomed Ace further into his mouth, his tongue mapping the layout of the other man’s cock. Marco couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this for someone else, the last time he’d welcomed someone towards the back of his throat. He enjoyed the weight and feel of him, the way he was forced to keep those narrow hips pinned in place, nose nestled against the soft curls of Ace’s pelvis. He didn’t need to breathe, immersed and lost in the natural scent Ace carried.

The hold on his hair became a vice-like grip, a sheen layer of sweat coating Ace’s shaking body. Marco relented somewhat, once again using the pads of his fingers to circle around the rim of Ace’s hole, enjoying the way the other’s body relaxed under his ministrations. He knew he shouldn’t tease him, not if he wanted Ace to last much longer, but a part of him could never resist drawing things out, bleeding pleasure and anguish together. 

Asserting his control.

“You’re close, huh, yoi?” he asked, his own voice low, wrecked even.

Ace’s cheeks were flushed, his hair clinging to his temples and his lips red from where he’d bitten them. He could hardly hold Marco’s gaze, lust polluting the surrounding colors. Marco couldn’t help but to preen a tad at the state in which he’d reduced Ace to, taking those swollen and bruised lips for himself.

His treasure.

The brat could only sigh into the kiss, one hand secured around the nape of Marco’s neck while the blonde carried on with his initial plan, easing the tip of his middle finger inside the tight passage of Ace’s body. His insides were a raging inferno compared to the rest of him, and Marco took his time in stretching Ace open, rendering him apart from the inside out. Ace didn’t fight him, clinging to the older man instead, his hips rocking with the motion of Marco’s fingers, thick and long and _oh_ , so right. 

“I could make you come just like this,” he promised, whispering nothing but the utmost filth against the shell of Ace’s ear, the heat curtailed into each and every word setting the younger man further ablaze. “With my fingers alone, yoi.”

Three fingers deep, and Ace was reduced to fisting the crumpled sheets beneath him, a choked off sob caught midway in his throat. Marco could feel his own cock twitch with interest at the sight, his own wants and needs pulsing through him with enough force to make him physically ache. A curious sensation, that.

“Do you want me inside you, Ace?”

“ _Yes_!” he cried, tears dotting his lash line like the rarest of diamonds. 

The soft glow from the oil-based lamp overhead cast long reaching shadows that only added to the contours of Ace’s body. The hint of red that danced across the long expanse of heated and embarrassed flesh shimmering with sweat made Marco want to capture the image for himself for all eternity. Ace made quite the sight lost in the throes of passion, and Marco could no longer refute him. 

“Please, Marco,” Ace pleaded, beautiful beyond recognition, the look in his eyes just as lost and wounded as before this had all started. 

Marco couldn’t stand it, resolved to take all the pain and uncertainty away, ready to replace it with a love and tenderness that Ace had never known before. If only for a moment, Ace would know no sense of loss or loneliness. A willingness to take charge of Ace’s heart overcame him then, and Marco realized that the two of them shared a similar sense of isolation, and while their reasons vastly differed, they shared it nonetheless. 

Marco focused all of his intent into the next kiss he shared with Ace, his lungs starved of oxygen, one hand placed under the bend of Ace’s knee. Ace pulled away from him, a low moan spilling out into the air between them as Marco took himself in hand, pressing steadily deep inside. Marco watched as Ace’s face contorted into a mixture of heightened pleasure and tensing pain, the tight heat of his body drawing him in. 

“Oh, god, Marco!” Ace cried as he finally bottomed out. 

“ _Shh_ , yoi,” he said, near crooning as he pressed kiss after kiss across freckled cheeks and sparsely freckled lips. “You’re so good for me, Ace. So perfect, yoi.”

Marco smoothed endless circles into the sharp edge of Ace’s hip, feeling him relax underneath him, one stilted breath at a time. He counted the freckles that stretched across the bridge of Ace’s nose, content to wait however long he needed to. Ace brought him down for another kiss, ravenous in nature and exploitative by demand. 

“I feel so fucking full,” he whimpered, lips pressed against the side of Marco’s throat, bare and open and exposed just as he.

Marco’s stoic demeanor broke into two, his hips rearing backward before he cultivated all the strength within himself to slam forward, reveling in the guttural scream that tore forth from Ace’s throat. Ace’s nails delved into the broad width of Marco’s back, drawing thin streaks of blood that were then washed away in a cool blue trickle of flame. Marco channeled all of his focus into fucking Ace within an inch of his life, bringing him closer and closer to the precipice without letting him fall off completely.

Marco felt lost inside him, his teeth sinking into Ace’s shoulder as a keen sense of possessiveness took him over. Ace brought out dangerous traits from deep with inside him, traits that Marco never knew he encompassed before. A thin line between love and obsession resided in his heart, he knew, but no one had ever come close to fanning those flames before. 

Not until Ace.

“Marco,” he moaned, his voice deep, husky even as their eyes met and held. 

Marco held his breath, a shiver coursing through his spine as he found himself ensnared in a trap that Ace had laid. He needed this, needed _him_ , and Ace needed it, too. Ace began to meet Marco’s rhythm, the steady swaying of his hips threatened to end it all.

He couldn’t take it.

He took Ace’s cock back into hand, jerking him off with tight, short movements that punctuated his sharp, hard thrusts. A series of red and orange flames erupted across Ace’s skin, and Marco found the display too mesmerizing to be threatened by their inherent danger. Each point of contact between them danced with a spellbinding shimmer of rich, deep purple unique to their lovemaking only. 

Ace heated the blonde up while Marco cooled him down. 

If Ace feared that he might have hurt him, it was short lived. Marco didn’t miss a beat, steadily pounding the other man into the mattress beneath them with no signs of stopping anytime soon. The short, little aborted noises Ace made the closer he got to the edge spurred Marco on, content to take, take, take until there was nothing left.

“Close,” Ace groaned, his head thrown back, and throat laid bare for the taking. “So close, _please_!” 

Marco nipped at the other man’s exposed neck and throat, enjoying the way he cried out, his ass clenching down and around the blonde’s cock as Ace’s orgasm overcame him then and there. He continued to stroke Ace’s cock throughout his release, taking until the last possible drop. Ace pulled him impossibly closer, exploring Marco’s mouth with a hungry tongue, his thighs flexing along either side of him as short thrums of pleasure continued to pulse throughout his body. The dazed, sated look in Ace’s eyes finally did him in, his own climax sweeping throughout him in powerful waves. Marco could feel his heart slamming steadily against his rib cage, the sound of ragged breathing and heavy panting the only thing he could make out in the sudden stillness of the room. 

No matter what happened, they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. 

“I can heal the marks I left behind if you want,” he offered after a moment or two, sliding out of Ace’s body to lay along the other man’s side. 

They were close, but no longer on top of each other. Their limbs touched in key places, but Ace was free to leave if he so desired. Once he regained the feeling in his lower extremities, Marco determined that he would help to clean the both of them up. 

“They’re mine,” Ace said, rolling over and onto his side, that dangerous and steadfast gaze of his fastened to Marco’s own. “I’m keeping them.”

Marco couldn’t help the dazzling smile that corrupted otherwise sleepy-looking features, relief flooding throughout his system. He’d committed thus far, and so he brushed a stray strand of dark hair behind one of Ace’s ears, imagining a hibiscus flower in its stead. The tortured expression Ace carried like an albatross around his neck was nowhere to be found, replaced by a settled contentment that suited his youth far better. 

“Whatever you want, yoi,” he said, and he found that he meant it. Whatever Ace needed, he wanted to be able to provide.

“I only want you,” Ace promised, leaning into Marco’s touch like a cat who’d finally learned to trust.

“I’m not familiar with this, Ace,” he said, unsettled by the truth of it, “but I promise to try my best for you, yoi.”

“I know,” he said, sparing the blonde a sleep-filled smile. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get some rest, yoi,” Marco said, enjoying the weight of Ace’s head along his shoulder, the soft breath that tickled his jawline just so as it evened out. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” he asked, and Marco hated the uncertainty that resided in those two little words.

“I promise, yoi,” he reassured. “We’ll have a hell of a mess on our hands, but we’ll deal with it together. I’m not letting you out of my sight from now on, brat.”

  
  
  


The soft laugh Ace made breathed new life into him. Marco might have been the one to finally take Ace, but he would be a fool not to realize he’d played right into the boy’s hands. Ace was a predator whether he knew it or not, and Marco? Well, Marco supposed that he was his willing prey. What a thrill it would be to be so continuously, thoroughly, relentlessly hunted by the one he most wanted. 


End file.
